Hello all! I'm very pleased and flattered with the wonderful responses I received for the first chapter of this fic! I'm really excited to continue with story and I have lots of plans for my OC Valora and our favorite trash boy...lets just say its going to be a rocky road to romance, but an enjoyable one none the less! Anywho, here is the next chapter! It's a lot longer than the last one, so I hope you enjoy it! Please drop me a review and let me know what you think!
P.S. Own Star Wars, I do not.
Valora dried her freshly cleaned hands with a rag as she stared down at her patient. His brows were furrowed in obvious pain, yet he remained unconscious, a fact that truly worried her. His wounds were both serious and extensive: a multitude of burns covered the left side of his body, and he sported a few cracked ribs. Last night, after quickly retrieving her hover from the shed near her house and transporting him from the wreckage of his ship to her small dwelling, Val did the best she could to soothe the burns and set his bones, but she was no healer, and the young stranger was in the hands of the Force now. She stared down at him a moment longer, trying not to stare at the broad expanse of his shoulders and chest as well as the admittedly appealing curve of his cheekbones, before making her way out the door of the small guest room she had placed him in and down the hallway towards her kitchen. She proceeded to uncork the bottle of wine sitting on her kitchen table and pour herself a generous glass of the crimson liquid courage before sitting down heavily in the lone rickety chair. Closing her eyes, she rested her elbows on the table and her head in her hands before taking a series of deep, meditative breaths.
"What am I doing?" She whispered to herself after a moment, a multitude of thoughts spinning through her mind. What she should have done the minute she found the wreckage was contact General Organa and inform her, but something held her back last night just like something was holding her back now. She lifted her head and stared out the small kitchen window towards the direction of the wrecked ship, huffing slightly in annoyance. She wasn't usually so indecisive. In her line of work, being indecisive got you killed. After a few more moments of deep, conflicted thought, Val rose from the table, decision made. She would investigate the wreckage further and then report her findings to the General. Perfectly logical. At least that's what Val told herself as she snagged her cloak from the hook by the door and made her way quietly outside and towards the direction of her small work shed.
When she opened the door, it creaked loudly, and Val's head immediately whipped back towards the direction of her house to check for any movement before entering the shed and closing the door softly behind her. She then made her way over to the rusty workbench and reached over it to grab the Harris wrench hanging from a nail. When she removed it, a panel in the floor immediately slid open, revealing a narrow wooden staircase. Val made her way quickly and quietly down the stairs, the panel sliding shut above her. She flipped the switch next to the foot of the stairs and the cavernous space was immediately filled with a soft blue light, revealing a small, but sleek spaceship and a hover bike. She stood stock still and listened for a moment until she heard a quiet, but familiar whir coming from a dark corner. She rolled her eyes.
"R7 I know your hiding down here. Come out, you silly thing." Out of the darkness rolled a green and silver droid, head spinning and blue lights flashing. He beeped and whirred as he moved towards her and didn't stop until he was pressed against her leg.
"It's alright, buddy. It was just a small crash." R7 made a high pitched noise in response as he bounced. "Alright, so it wasn't that small." He began to shake. "I think you're being a bit overdramatic." He rolled backward slightly and stared up at her in what could only be described as indignation. "What? It's true! First sign of trouble and here you are: hiding down here in the dark like some frightened little Loth-cat." He beeped moodily as he turned around and went back towards the dark corner he was hiding in.
"Suit yourself, you stubborn droid." Val shrugged as she made her way over to a series of cabinets on the opposite wall. "But I'm going up to investigate that crash." He rolled back towards her, head spinning and beeping madly. She scoffed. "Well if you're so worried about my safety, then by all means come along." She stated as she riffled through the cabinet until she found what she was looking for. She took what she found and moved to a work table a few feet away before setting the objects down on its surface. Two gleaming lightsaber hilts and a holstered blaster stared up at her.
"What do you think, R7. Sabers or blaster?" The droid beeped in response. "For protection, you daft droid. Who knows what could be hiding in that wreckage." He whirred at her impatiently and she nodded in agreement. "Good point, sabers would be a bit of overkill. Blaster it is." She strapped said blaster around her hips before making her way back to the stairs. "Come on, then." R7 made a metallic huffing noise in response before following her up the stairs, into the shed and then outside. Val gazed up at the sky for a moment and observed the gray storm clouds gathering with a sense of unease. Her planet was pounded with massive electrical storms nine months of the year. The combination of the planet's atmosphere and the electricity of the storms rendered most vessels inoperable. The thought of being stranded in her house with a strange, and potentially dangerous Force user wasn't exactly an appealing thought. With a lingering gaze at the darkening sky, Val adjusted her blaster holster and headed towards the woods, R7 at her heels.
When she reached the crash sight a few moments later, she wasn't surprised to find the ship still smoking in places along with the remnants of fallen and charred trees. She approached the ship slowly, Force lifting the debris that blocked her path out of the way. Val removed the blaster from her hip and raised it as she neared the gapping back hatch of the vessel and peered inside cautiously. When no immediate threat made itself known, she stepped inside the vessel and squatted down next to a fallen Stormtrooper. Her gaze was immediately drawn to the black insignia on the shoulder of the trooper's partially melted plastiod armor. The mark of the First Order. She had suspected as much, but now she had proof. She would definitely need to report to General Organa now. What they were doing near her planet, Val had no idea, but she was willing to bet it wasn't good.
She made her way deeper into the ship, carefully navigating the Stormtrooper-covered floor. She had almost reached the cockpit, when a dull glint of metal near a prostrate trooper, a commander judging by his uniform, caught her eye. She leaned down to pick it up, fingers just shy of brushing the metal object when she was suddenly thrown off her feet by an unknown force. She whipped her head around, blaster raised, seeking out the culprit. Finding none, she looked back at the metal object, confusion written plainly on her face. She reached for it again, and once more she was assailed with the feeling of unrelenting pressure. Determined to learn more, she forced herself to ignore the pressure and pick up the object. Raising it up to catch a small sliver of grayish sunshine, she realized two things simultaneously: one, that the object itself was obviously the source of the force that knocked her off her feet and two, it wasn't just an ordinary object—it was a lightsaber.
Val gripped it tighter, and going against every one of her instincts, ignited the saber. Incandescent red filled the hull of the crashed ship and lit her face with an eery glow. The saber crackled and sparked as if it would combust at any given moment. Val stared at it with a combination of awe and revulsion. She could sense that this weapon, with its blood red color and fierce looking cross guard, had taken many lives. She stared at the glowing blade for what felt like hours, a dark yet oddly comforting feeling flowing through her, before a sharp beep broke her out of her reverie. R7 was staring at her from the door of the ship, shaking slightly. He beeped anxiously once more. Val stared at the droid dazedly for a moment before turning her attention back to the ignited saber. Horror filled her eyes as she shut it off and dropped it as if it were a poisonous snake. She stumbled back a few steps before reaching a shaking hand out to steady herself against the hull of the ship. Although she attempted to ignore it, her gaze was inexplicably drawn to the lightsaber, now lying on the floor a foot away from her. She forced her eyes away from the weapon and towards the direction of her home. Whoever was lying in her spare bedroom was no ordinary Force user—he was a Sith Lord. Her eyes moved back to the saber for a fraction of a second before she turned to face her droid.
"R7, would you be a dear and pick that up for me?" She motioned towards the weapon, not trusting herself to touch it again. The droid whirred at her suspiciously. "I can't—I can't touch that thing again." Not questioning her any further, the droid rolled up the ramp of the ship and approached the object in question before extending a hidden metal arm and picking the saber up. He stared at her expectantly, waiting for his next order.
"Let's go home, buddy." She pushed herself off the hull and made her way shakily down the ramp, R7 following closely behind her. Her mind swirled with a million different thoughts as the odd pair made their way through the woods and back towards Val's home, a deep rumble of thunder echoing in the distance heralding the coming storm. Due to the importance of the intel she discovered aboard the crashed vessel, the obvious course of action would be to report immediately to the General, but something kept holding her back. Sith Lord or not, Val was drawn to the stranger in her house, perhaps even more so now. She wished to learn more about him before reporting to the Resistance, who would no doubt immediately send a squadron to retrieve her injured house guest. Val knew that her reasoning was not the most logical, but she couldn't seem to care. Besides, she thought to herself, I'm a Jedi, for Force sake. I can take care of myself, even if it is against a Sith. Not entirely convinced by her own words, Val made her way towards her shed, stopping once she reached the door. Opening it, she turned to look down at R7.
"I want you to take that—thing," she motioned to the lightsaber, "and bring it down and put it with the other weapons." His head spun in compliance. Val signed and kneeled down so that she was level with the astrodroid. Placing her hand on his head, she added. "Then I want you to stay down there and keep out of sight. I'll come and check on you in the morning, ok?" The droid beeped sadly in response, shifting from leg to leg. "It's going to be alright, I promise." She straightened and motioned towards the door of the shed as a flash of lightning filled the sky. "Now go on then," she glanced up at the clouds, "before this storm gets in full swing." R7 made a sad beep and gave her backward glance as he rolled into the shed.
Val closed and locked the door behind him and jogged towards the house just as the sky began to open up. A large boom of thunder rang out as soon as she reached her backdoor and opened it. Stepping quietly into her kitchen, she removed the blaster holster from around her hips before hiding it in a small compartment on the underside of her kitchen table. She removed a small vibroblade from the same compartment and slid it into the side of her boot. No more walking around unarmed in her own home. Only marginally satisfied with her defensive measures, Val made her way back to the spare room to check on her patient. She was relieved to find him still lying motionless on the bed, the steady rise and fall of his broad chest the only indication of life. That and his immense Force presence, even in his unconscious state. Val sighed softly and turned towards her own room with the intention of changing her smoke and soot stained clothes before checking her patient's wounds. She was momentarily startled when she caught sight of the black and chrome helmet sitting on her dresser. She had forgotten that she had placed it there after returning home the previous night. Shivering slightly, she made her way to her small closet and grabbed a change of clothes. She had just removed her jacket, when she felt the hairs on the back of her neck raise in warning. She immediately removed the blade from her boot and made her way out of her room and back down the hall, her feet not making a sound as she went. A sense of dread filled her as she reached the spare room and found the bed empty. She closed her eyes and began to reach out with the Force, but stopped herself before she could, coming to the decision that it would be better if her "guest" did not know of her abilities. The First Order weren't exactly known for their hospitality towards Jedi. Instead, she listened intently for any sign of movement, and hearing none, made her way farther into the room.
She had almost reached the bed when a bolt of lightening flashed across the dark sky, lighting up the room and illuminating the dark silhouette of a figure behind her in the reflective panes of the window. Val stared at the reflection for a moment before springing into action. She turned with the speed of an experienced fighter and brought her blade towards the dark figure in a blurred arc. Her wrist was easily captured and squeezed in a grip that ground her bones together painfully. Another flash of light filled the room, exposing the imposing figure of her patient, clothed only in his dark trousers, bandages wrapped around his chest and stomach. The two combatants stared at each other for a moment before Val made her move: she released the blade from her captured hand and caught it with her free one, and without wasting a moment, slashed the blade across the arm he was using to restrain her. He hissed in pain, his grip releasing only fractionally, but Val took advantage of his momentary lapse by ripping her arm free and kicking him square in the chest, effectively sending him careening in the wall behind him and no doubt upsetting his cracked ribs. Val took a defensive stance, knife raised, as her opponent straightened his stance and stared at her darkly through the dark fringe of his hair.
"Look, whoever you are," she shifted on her feet, "I'm not going to hurt you. Your ship crashed last night and I pulled you from the wreckage. You are badly injured and should be resting, not fighting to the death with the person who tried to save your life!" His response to her speech was to push himself off the wall and approach her slowly, pounding sharply on his injured ribcage with a fist as he went. Val stared at him with a mix of confusion and horror. "Please don't make me hurt you." She pleaded as he neared her, causing him to pause in his tracks.
"Hurt me?" He stated, his deep melodic voice coming out as an almost whisper. "Foolish girl, you are not capable of doing such a thing." The corners of his lips turned up into either a smile or a grimace of pain, Val wasn't sure.
"Really?" She countered. "What do you call that?" She motioned with her blade towards the deep gash she had made on his arm.
"Motivation." He stated darkly, and then he was in motion, a loud crack of thunder shaking the house as he moved towards her. Suddenly, his hand was around her throat and before she could stop him, he hurled her across the room and into the same wall that she had forced him against not a moment ago. Accept this time, she nearly went through the wall. Plaster cracked and fell to the floor along with other bits of debris with the impact of her body and she groaned as she fell to the floor. He approached her prone form, his bare feet entering her line of sight, before he kneeled down and grabbed a handful of her hair. Yanking her head back, he forced her to stare into his eyes.
"Like I said. Foolish." He stated. "And now you will die for it." Val suddenly felt an invisible hand wrapping around her throat and squeezing the life from her. She refused to die like this. Serenity and patience be damned. She attempted to speak, her words coming out as a rasp.
"What?" The dark stranger questioned as he placed his ear near her lips and loosened his grip on her slightly.
"I said," she wheezed, "not today." And then she made her move. She reached up and dug her finger into his wound before throwing all her weight at him and pinning him on the floor. She knew that if he was uninjured she probably would not have been able to catch him so off guard, but she could tell his movements were growing sluggish and she took advantage of said sluggishness as she reached for a broken wooden panel from her ruined wall, her attacker struggling beneath her as she did so, and proceeded to knock him out cold with it. As he went still beneath her, blood leaking from the newest wound, courtesy of her, on his temple, she stared at the wooden panel with distaste before dropping it to the floor.
"So uncivilized."
Valora is already done with Kylo's shit and it's only chapter 2...